


butterfly kisses

by claritambi



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, References to past trauma, soft. theyre soft. im soft. we're all soft, theyre both fine!! everyone is fine!! canon can fuck OFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 09:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17546978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claritambi/pseuds/claritambi
Summary: “Like this,” Ash says, leaning forward so his eyelashes touch at Eiji’s cheek, nuzzling against his face, skin barely touching.“I could barely feel it,” Eiji says, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. “It is cute, though. A sweet gesture. I like it,” he says.(vignettes of ash and eiji's (happy) life in Izumo, Japan)





	butterfly kisses

i. 

Eiji was having a hard time getting used to Ash's red hair. The dye had faded significantly over the past few weeks, but it was still jarring, so different from the blonde he was used to. It wasn't bad looking at all and was much more attractive than Eiji’s own plain black cut, and the red complimented Ash’s rosy, pale skin, but it was a reminder to how much the pair have been through. Change was something he had to get accustomed to, especially in the past three years after the accident that altered his life drastically. Eiji smiled to himself quietly, watching as Ash dozed on the couch nearby, thinking back to how devastated he was after learning he could no longer have a future in pole vaulting with his hurt leg. He breathed out a laugh; it was silly, humorous, in comparison to everything that happened after his mentor Ibe convinced him to study photography and journalism with him in New York, the week that turned into years. Eiji scribbled down another sentence in his notebook, not ready to turn his attention back to the essay he was supposed to have done before tomorrow. His thoughts swirled, and he held his pen tightly between his fingers, grounding the emotions that threatened to shatter the calm of the room. It was still difficult to handle, to contain all that he felt into only his small, human form. 

He sighed and pushed the notebook forward, the paper curling against the wall his desk was against, setting his pen down and flicking it back toward the notebook as it rolled toward him, back and forth, a calming and predictable motion. Ash was still sleeping soundly, his breath coming out in quiet puffs, his shirt not completely covering his back. Eiji moved his gaze to the skin of Ash's stomach, eying the newest scar there with both trepidation and wonder. Ash was very vague with his explanation of how he ended up in Eiji's home, blunt words with too many hidden details; he got in an accident, Blanca and Sing found him, and he recovered fine. He used his fake passport, wired his large inherited sum of wealth to a new account, and then dyed his hair to leave America inconspicuously and come to Japan. Eiji knew he was telling the truth, and after living alongside Ash and experiencing the dangers of the mafia firsthand he wasn't surprised, but he knew there was more to what had happened than Ash was telling him. He doesn’t pry, but he wonders why Ash is so reluctant to speak about what happened after Eiji had seen much worse in New York. 

The air is quiet. He looks up slightly, noticing that Ash is awake and watching him now, too. 

“You're still up,” Ash said, a soft statement. Eiji nods, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. 

“I am working on an essay for art history, the topic is interesting but writing... a little boring. Not enough action in Rococo,” he said, stretching his arms above his head. “At least there is some romance,” he said, flashing a grin as Ash groaned. “Get it? Romanticism painting,” Eiji clarified, and Ash held up his hand, interrupting with “I got it, it was just bad,” before flopping face-forward onto the couch again. 

“Don't you have any other homework? Math, or something?” Ash asked, and Eiji turned away to stop himself from laughing. Ash has been increasingly insistent on helping tutor Eiji, and while the help is welcome Eiji quickly realized that Ash was so beside himself with boredom that he was willing to do anything, including calculus, to pass the time. 

“You could fill out your application forms and finish the entrance exam,” Eiji said gently, and Ash mumbled something (probably rude) under his breath. It was more complicated than that, trying to get into college with a fake identity, and while Eiji truly thought it'd be good for Ash to use his brain for something that didn't involve taking down mobsters he doubted Ash would be able to enroll. A fake identity didn’t erase his past. 

“Maybe,” Ash said, and Eiji smiled again. That was a good enough answer for now, so Eiji let the subject drop. 

He worked in silence for a while as Ash flipped through a couple of magazines before settling on reading a book. It was close to four in the morning when he finished, and Eiji stood up from the chair and stretched fully this time, padding over to where Ash was on the couch, half-asleep with the book hanging loosely from his fingers over the edge. He tapped the other boy on the shoulder, and when Ash didn’t move, Eiji slapped his back. Ash made a noise of protest but eventually lifted his head, raising an eyebrow in question. 

“At least sleep in a bed,” he chided gently, and Ash, surprisingly, nods and makes to stand up. 

“Gonna shower first,” he says sleepily, and Eiji grins, turning off the desk lamp. 

“Oh, of course, I forgot. White people need to shower once a day or else their hair falls off, right?” he says, snickering as Ash gives him a withering look. 

“Sorry my roots get greasy. Have fun sleeping in dirt and your own sweat,” he says, walking off toward the direction of the bathroom. Eiji watches him leave before going to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. 

Their new apartment was like the one in New York, and his parents vehemently opposed the idea at first but eventually relented after Eiji’s logic won out: it was close to his school, only a short train ride away from home, and he was an adult and could take care of himself. 

It’s now snowing, the white catching on the windowsill in a pattern like the bell curves Ash had plotted earlier that morning, and Eiji sips from his mug, tucking his feet under himself as he watches the snowflakes. He almost lost this; the sweet, uneventful moments that peppered his time in New York. He never thought that he would be able to keep this, whatever this is between him and Ash, to be sharing an apartment again. He still feels breathless whenever he looks over and Ash is there, living normally, peacefully. It is as if he is looking at his own life through the eyes of another, imagining this happiness, daydreaming about what happens after the ending of a good book. It still doesn’t feel real; waking up to Ash’s breathing, his beating heart every morning. Eiji is grateful beyond words. 

When Ash first showed up in Izumo, Japan, Eiji was walking back home from the supermarket. The bag full of instant ramen weighed down on Eiji heavily, his tall form less lithe, too skinny, his hair unkempt, purple eyebags tattooed onto his face. Sing had called him earlier that evening but refused to speak about Ash. He talked about the weather in New York, the food from Chinatown, anything but Ash. Eiji had cracked. He screamed at Sing, begged for any news, and cried over the phone and hung up, Sing’s guilty, cut-off apologies ringing in his head as he left his home in a hurry so his parents couldn’t question why he had been yelling. He walked slowly down the sidewalk, simultaneously comforted and sickened by the familiar surroundings of his small hometown. He still isn’t sure why he decided to go to the park that night. It was a sticky, hot summer, but Eiji felt chilly as he approached a tall figure sitting on one of the swings. His hair was like fire, haphazardly dyed in sections so that the red faded into orange and yellow like a ripple of flame. 

“I like the blonde, but this suits you too,” he had said, since that’s all he could manage to say. He can’t remember how long he cried in Ash’s arms that night, knees in the dirt under the moonlight. They both went to Eiji’s house, his parents and sister shocked by the sudden appearance of a mysterious foreigner, Eiji’s tearstained face and his first genuine smile in months. 

Eiji sets the mug down into the sink before heading back to their bedroom. Ash and Eiji are both too used to sleeping in the same room by now that neither could sleep well in separate rooms. One night, soon after Ash had come to Japan, he woke up from one of his nightmares to find Eiji fluffing up his pillow a few feet away after having pulled the entire mattress from the adjacent room and into Ash’s bedroom. Ash didn’t tell Eiji to leave, only wiped the salt from his eyes and murmured a thank you. The makeshift set-up was permanent now, and Eiji tiptoed into the room and sneaks under the blankets, trying to be as silent as possible. 

“About time,” Ash says sleepily from his corner of the room. “How much longer are you planning to keep me awake?” he teases. Eiji rolls his eyes in the dark. 

“At least I don’t snore like you do,” Eiji says, and Ash snorts, rolling over fully to face him before sticking out his tongue in retaliation. Both know that Ash wasn't capable of snoring, never able to reach deep sleep with his constant nightmares, but neither mention this, and Eiji instead pulls his hand out from under his pillow to flip Ash his middle finger. A fond smile plays on Ash’s lips as he flips him the bird right back, cheek resting against the covers. 

Eiji isn’t sure why, but the quiet snowfall outside their dark, warm room brings him to tears. He tears his gaze away from Ash, hearing his footsteps before feeling his weight on the bed. 

“Eiji,” Ash whispers, hesitantly carding his hand through Eiji’s hair. Eiji takes a few deep breaths, wiping his face against his pillow, the heater humming and Ash breathing. 

“We almost...” Eiji stops a sob from bubbling up in his throat, biting his lip. “We almost didn’t have this,” he says. Ash stays quiet. They both knew how death had followed them closely, how the gunshots that singed Eiji’s skin and the knife in Ash’s abdomen almost severed them. It was ironic, almost, how they were injured in the same spot, connected through their pain. Yet, somehow, they were both still here, hurt but alive, too many ghosts in the dark of the room but blood still running through their veins. Ash lived to meet him and lived on after. He was a miracle. 

“Thank you,” Eiji says, and Ash’s hand stills momentarily. 

“I should be saying that to you,” Ash replies, wiping at the edge of Eiji’s eye with his thumb. Eiji looks up to meet Ash’s green eyes. There is so much unspoken but, for now, they don’t need words. Ash had asked him to stay, and Eiji did. Eiji asked Ash to follow him, and Ash had. Ash’s hand on his scalp brought Eiji back to New York, to when their roles were reversed and Ash let himself be open for the first time in his life, vulnerable and trusting. Eiji’s chest physically hurt with the intensity of his fears, his relief. 

“I am happy,” he whispers, and Ash smiles. 

“Then stop crying, you big baby. I thought you were supposed to be the older one,” Ash says, and Eiji lets out a wet giggle, swatting at Ash’s thigh. 

“Treat your elders with respect, then, and I will act my age,” he says, trailing off and closing his eyes. Ash doesn’t leave his side. 

 

ii. 

Eiji sneezes in Ash’s face during their holiday party, right as Ibe is about to take their picture, and it’s the hardest either has seen Max laugh. Ash gets embarrassed and sends quick jibes in Max’s direction, then turning his fiery tongue on Eiji as Eiji laughs while saying his apology. He’s sorry, but not sorry enough to stop laughing at Ash. Sing is too close to the crossfire and gets yelled at as well, and soon enough he and Ash are shouting good-hearted insults across the room. Max is still chuckling at the boys’ expense a full five minute later, and his wife Jessica is also thoroughly amused by Ash’s blushing, but the adults get bored and move onto other conversation topics soon enough. Ash breathes a huge sigh of relief when they’re done teasing him, looking out toward the skyline. 

It was Max’s idea to have everyone visit Ibe’s home in Japan for the holidays. It was labeled a winter get-together, no actual holiday attached since everyone had their differing religious views and Eiji suspected that Ash, specifically, had a precarious relationship with God. Eiji was just glad to see all the people he cared about gathered in one place again, the air in the room smelling like pine rather than hanging with threats. Ash’s gaze looks like rain, sometimes, as Eiji glances over from where he sits with his parents, his mother speaking hushed Japanese, a private world. Ash notices him staring every so often and smiles once, twice, glassy eyes, and Eiji stands up, apologizes to his parents and walks over to the window. 

“Japan looks a lot like New York in the winter,” he says, and Eiji nods. The snow blankets the countryside just as it did in Central Park. He scoots closer to Ash and watches the snow banks grow for a moment, peaceful, Ash’s melancholy something he can reach out and touch. So, he does. Ash says nothing but he lets Eiji tentatively reach for his dangling arm, and Eiji is grateful that he is allowed the privilege to touch him, one of the few. He loosely holds Ash’s hand, sending as much warmth and sun as he can through their connected fingertips. 

“I think Japan is... warmer,” Eiji says, the noise of the party humming behind them. Ash looks at him curiously, and Eiji pouts, thinking for a moment. 

“In feeling,” he concludes, and Ash sighs next to him. 

“You’re lucky I can understand what you mean with your awful, broken English,” he says, and Eiji feels warm at the fondness in Ash’s voice, the voice that Ash reserves only for him. 

“You are lucky I even bother with English. We are in Japan now, not America, and you come into my house asking me to speak better English? I could just speak in Japanese all the time, let you wonder. Lucky for you, I am nice,” he says, pulling down his bottom eyelid in a mocking gesture he had seen Sing make before. Ash laughs, a real and loud laugh, squeezing Eiji’s hand in his own before punching Eiji’s shoulder with his other. 

“This isn’t your house,” Ash says, and Eiji punches him back, making sure to use enough force to make it sting just a bit. Ash is still grinning lazily, as if he doesn’t feel the blow at all. 

Ibe opens a bottle of wine and Eiji sits back down next to his family, scolding his younger sister before she can take a sip from his glass. She and Ash are the only people are the part who are underage, although Ash doesn’t hesitate to crack open a beer with Max in the kitchen. Eiji listens to his sister talk about how her semester at school was going and how much she dislikes her algebra teacher. He glances over at his mother and sees her watching Ash with a pensive expression. He hasn’t explained to his parents what happened in New York, but his mother is smart enough to have realized that Ash was at least a part of why Eiji had disappeared for two years. He bites his lip, looking out into the living room space, unsure of what he should say and what should remain a secret. His parents hadn’t questioned him when he brought Ash back to their home, hadn’t refused Eiji’s request to move closer to university with Ash as his roommate, hadn’t pushed Eiji to elaborate on the vague horrors Ibe had mentioned to them. Eiji knew his parents wanted to know the truth, but he wasn’t sure if he could break his mother’s heart yet again and risk hurting Ash in the process. He is happy to leave the past in the past, and he doesn’t regret the pain he suffered if he could stay happy now, in Japan with his family and with Ash, the person he cares for most in the world. He hopes his mother will understand one day, and maybe then he’ll be ready to talk, and Ash will feel safe enough to relax as well. He glances back over to Ash, smiling softly as he watches Max and Ash converse, happy to see Ash has finally found family amongst the madness. 

 

iii. 

Eiji blinks his eyes open to a pastel dawn, cocooned in bedsheets and warmth. He yawns and stretches, looking over towards Ash’s bed and blinks sleepily, noting that it’s empty. Ash usually doesn’t wake up before noon when he isn’t working, and Eiji rolls over in bed only to come face-to-face to a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He holds in a laugh and rests his hand under his chin, gazing at Ash’s sleeping form in the bed. 

They usually reserve sleeping in the same bed for particularly bad nights, when one of them jolts awake in fear gasping for air and the comfort of someone trustworthy nearby eases the burden on their souls. Last night held no nightmares, only a heated game of chess. Eiji smiles sleepily, glancing down at the foot of the bed where the abandoned chess pieces still lay, the board on the floor, presumably after one of them kicked it off in their sleep. Ash still has fitful nights, and Eiji is surprised Ash didn’t slap him awake on accident this morning. He lays his head back down on the pillow, wondering how many more chess games it will take for Ash’s hair dye to fully fade and the number of chess matches it would take to fill up the rest of their days. 

The light filtering in from the window make Ash’s eyelashes appear even more golden than usual, casting gentle shadows on his cheek. He is calm, breathing slowly and softly in sleep. Ash looks ethereal, very different to how Eiji is when he’s asleep; he hasn’t been able to see for himself how he looks when sleeping, but most mornings he wakes up to bunched up blankets and drool covering his pillow. Ash’s hair is halo’d on the pillow and Eiji notes to himself that both need to get haircuts soon. Ash stirs slightly, breathing out a sigh before burying his face in the pillow. Eiji bites his lip to keep from laughing at the disgruntled expression Ash wears as he drifts back to unconsciousness. Despite the nightmares, Ash is a very heavy sleeper. He observes the other for another minute to make sure Ash isn’t going to suffocate himself in his sleep before he moves to get out of bed to make breakfast. 

 

iv. 

There is so much love in each of Eiji’s photographs, and Ash finds himself staring at the collection on the wall with a newly discovered awe. Eiji has been submitting his photography for different gallery shows in neighboring towns; he told Ash he was considering submitting some to galleries in Tokyo, but he wasn’t sure which photos to choose. Ash isn’t much help, since he knows nothing about photography and adores Eiji’s photography, so Eiji had contacted Ibe and the two had set up mock exhibits around the house to see which photos looked good together. Ash was particularly fond of the photographs of New York City, especially since he knew that Eiji had taken them during their time there and somehow had made the treacherous memories into something beautiful: the sunset reflecting off glass buildings, his bookshelf in the corner of another photo, an alleyway in Chinatown lit up with lanterns. Eiji’s landscapes were incredible and fun to look at. 

Ash looks over at the second set of photos, an indescribable feeling settling into his chest. The next wall was covered in portraits. There are quite a few photos of himself on the walls, and it’s almost shocking to see how Eiji views him; the camera captures his broad shoulders, the lighting making him look almost angelic, and he can’t help but wonder how Eiji’s camera can make him appear so gentle when he is composed of chipped concrete and the city smoke. The portraits are arranged in a way where they are like a diary, revealing sections of Eiji’s life, of his desires. A photo of him, Eiji and Shorter laughing, Shorter’s purple mohawk tied in a hairband and sticking out awkwardly from his head; an accompanying photo that shows Nadia in front of her brother’s former Chinese restaurant in the rain that describes the aftermath. A photograph of Sing with a knife in motion, dancing on his knuckles, his face tilted downward. Ash’s back as he holds a pistol aimed at a soda can on an opposing fence, impossibly far; he had hit it dead-on a second after. Max, Jessica, and their son Michael huddled under a blanket as the moon begins to fill the night. In the center of the wall is a photo of him, his blonde hair blending into the setting sun, a halo of yellow around his face. He is wearing a solemn expression, glasses still on and a can of beer in a hand that hangs too low. He doesn’t remember the specific day, but he remembers the aching. 

The photos from Izumo are vastly different, but still incredible. Eiji had told Ash he hadn’t taken any photos since he got back to Japan, but once Ash had returned, Eiji said he could pick up his camera again. The countryside in spring with tall tufts of grass swaying in the wind, Eiji’s sister laughing in the breeze. A plate of steamed rice with egg next to a hot dog topped with mustard and ketchup. The back of Ash’s head when he had red hair, reading a book on a bench in a park. Ash standing in a relaxed pose in front of a temple Eiji desperately had wanted them to visit, a place where soulmates went to bond. The photographs radiate joy, contentment, rose-colored happiness. Ash appreciates the photos from New York, but he really loves the photos Eiji took in Japan. 

Ash hears the front door open with a click and turns around as Eiji shuffles into the foyer. 

“I’m back,” he announces, walking over to where Ash is standing. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m impressed that you managed to capture my charms so well,” Ash says, pointing to the temple photo. Eiji blushes, bumping his shoulder into Ash’s. 

“It is not hard, considering how you are always charming,” he says, and Ash snorts. 

“You’re the only one who thinks that,” he says, and Eiji turns toward him, sensing the sour undertones. 

“That’s not true,” he says, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Ash’s ear, “but I will admit that I would be a little jealous if you showed this side of your personality to everyone.” Ash raises an eyebrow as Eiji grins at him confidently. 

“You don’t want me being nice to Sing? I can be meaner, you just need to ask,” he says, and Eiji laughs, bumping his shoulder again. 

“Sing is an exception since he’s a kid, but I am suspicious of Nadia,” Eiji says, humming in thought. Ash wraps an arm around Eiji’s shoulder, swaying in front of the photographs, sides pushed together as Eiji turns and buries his face in Ash’s arm. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” he says, feeling Eiji smile against his t-shirt. 

“I know. I don’t worry, I am joking. I’m happy if you’re happy, and it is nice to see you with friends,” he says, voice slightly muffled but still strong and reassuring. “You have many good friends. You deserve love.” 

v. 

Spring fades into summer quickly, the warm sun turning sweltering in a matter of days. Eiji finally finished his semester at college and Ash and he lounges in the rented cabana, Eiji fanning himself with a magazine. This was the first real vacation they’ve had since they had moved into their apartment, and Ash is glad to get out of the house and go on a trip. He still is paranoid, fear stuck in the back of his throat and burning his nose with every breath of the salty air, but he forces himself to try to relax and have fun. No one is hunting them anymore, but it’s difficult to un-train instincts he had to hone to survive. Ash swings his foot back and forth lazily, his heel hovering above the wooden planks. The beach has a soothing atmosphere, and Ash is in no hurry to swim and is content watching the waves glide in and out onto the sand in a hypnotizing rhythm. 

Eiji looks like he’s starting to get bored, however, and Ash’s lips curl up into a smile, trying not to chuckle at how Eiji slumps further into the couch with each passing second. 

“Eiji,” he calls out, and Eiji springs up immediately, standing up and padding over to Ash’s side. “Is there something you wanted to do? We are on vacation, after all,” Ash says, and Eiji’s face bursts into an excited grin, eyes sparkling with joy. 

“There’s a lot I want to do! I can’t decide, though. I have not been to the beach since I was a child,” he says, tapping his index finger against his chin in thought. He stops suddenly, and Ash raises an eyebrow as Eiji seems to deflate a bit before perking back up. 

“Ash, it is your vacation too. I have had many vacations, and I always got to choose what we did, so now it is your turn. You choose!” he says, and Ash hums in response. 

“I’m not picky. You obviously have things you want to do, so you can pick. I’m cool with anything,” he says, and Eiji frowns at him. Ash turns his head into the couch, closing his eyes and resting his chin upon his arm. “It’s fine, Eiji. I trust you,” he says, opening his eyes again, widening them in surprise as Eiji’s eyes fill with tears, lips a wobbly smile. He scooches closer to Ash, resting his chin on the couch armrest, their faces close. 

“I am glad,” he says, “that you trust me. I want this to be fun for both of us, so I choose first, then, you choose. Okay? We take turns, yes? Split the responsibility,” he laughs a little, a puff of breath tickling Ash’s hair. “It is complicated. I am sorry. I want you to choose yourself, though. It will make me happy,” Eiji says. 

“You’re so kind,” Ash breathes out, and Eiji looks up at him, a dopey smile drawn on his face. “That sounds like a great idea.” 

Eiji leans up in a seemingly spur of the moment action, rubbing their noses together minutely before pulling away, going pink. Ash feels happiness bubble up in his chest and laughs gently, letting his thumb trace circles on Eiji’s hand to reassure him that it was okay. 

“In America, we call those Eskimo kisses,” he says, and Eiji makes a pouting face. 

“Why?” Eiji’s face scrunches up, “It is not connected at all. That name is offensive,” he says, and Ash laughs again, agreeing. 

“I didn’t choose the names, but there’s a few others. I think butterfly kisses are nice,” he says, and Eiji tilts his head in the same way a confused puppy does, his adorable doe brown eyes gazing up at Ash. 

“Like this,” Ash says, leaning forward so his eyelashes touch at Eiji’s cheek, nuzzling against his face, skin barely touching. 

“I could barely feel it,” Eiji says, brushing some of his hair behind his ear. “It is cute, though. A sweet gesture. I like it,” he says. 

Eiji fidgets for a moment, his ears growing red like the sunset before he shakes his head, seemingly making up his mind. 

“Ash,” he starts, and Ash looks over, moving to sit cross-legged across from the other boy. “Can I...” Eiji trails off, biting his lip shyly, and Ash can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. 

“Bold, aren’t we?” he says, and Eiji slaps his arm, harsh enough to show he was embarrassed by Ash’s teasing this time. “Fine, fine!” Ash says, raising his hands up in defeat. Eiji looks at him warily. 

“Yes, Eiji, it’s okay,” he says this time, feeling a bit shy as well. Eiji cups Ash’s face gently and leans forward, their foreheads knocking together slightly before Eiji kisses his cheek gently before pulling back. 

“Is that okay? I do not want to make you upset,” Eiji says, twiddling a strand of Ash’s hair between his fingers. Ash tries and fails to stop a snort and Eiji glares at him. 

“That’s not what I expected, but I’m actually happier with this,” he says, and Eiji’s face blooms into a joyful, relieved expression, Ash’s chest tightening again. 

“I am glad! I will do it more often, then,” Eiji says, patting Ash’s face between his palms. Ash knows he’s turning sappy, but he can’t help it; Eiji is so adorable, so sweet, so good to him. They still haven’t put a name to what their relationship is, but Ash isn’t able to explain their bond with words. They’re closer than lovers, connected by souls rather than body, and Ash doesn’t feel a need to label it. He is content to live with Eiji forever like this, knowing he is safe with his brown-eyed guardian angel. 

“Where to first?” Ash says, and Eiji’s grin is blindingly bright against the blue waves.

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!! my first time writing a story in literally five years! i hope i still got it LOL i did not proofread this i did not beta it i'm just posting it and hoping for the best. just some drabbles! sorry there's not much i lost motivation and that's why some parts are longer than others i am very lazy but i try my best


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